I think that I might have some serious issues.

I had a dream the other night that I was driving down the road alone, the sun was shining, and I was grooving to the radio. Suddenly that annoying high pitched squealing/static noise of the Emergency Broadcast System interrupts By the Way by the Chilli Peppers and I listen as the announcer explains that Iraq has released a strange virus in the U.S. and starts describing signs to watch for, etc. One thing that was mentioned to look for was dead rodents.

I kept driving and then I started noticing dead squirrels hanging from the power lines. I just thought, Hmmm...that's strange, and kept driving. A few minutes later I stop at an intersection and look out of the window while waiting for the light to change and I see a pool of blood on the sidewalk. My gaze shifts upward and I find a grown man, clad in a white longsleeve button-up shirt, dress pants and shoes, and a tie, tangled up in the power lines and dripping blood on the ground. The light turns green and I drive onward only to find 4 more males dressed in business attire, a couple with their brief cases and cell phones still clutched in their hands, all tangled up and dangling from the power lines and dripping blood on to the ground.

And I just kept driving.

Wow. I was fucking blitzed the last time I blogged. What's all that shit about life being beautiful? Yeah...that was the alcohol talking.

Anyway, I just wanted to let all of you people know that I'm not dead...yet. The clinic I work at is doing remodeling and recarpeting and the building has been open until 8pm every night. So, of course, I've been staying till at least 5pm every night. There's something warm and fuzzy about working 4 hours overtime every day and not getting paid for it. Wooohooo! Yes, I realize that am a dumbass for working like this. The first step to recovery is recognizing that you have a problem.

It's just the fact that I have 67 patients and there's so much shit to keep track of, so many people to see, and so much paperwork to write up and file! Ben's getting concerned about me exhausting myself and I understand his concern and appreciate it. He's right, I cannot continue to work like this and maintain any type of sanity or healthy lifestyle. The past couple weeks all I've had energy to do is come home, eat something fast and unhealthy, and then fall into bed. My co-workers have even expressed their concerns. Kevin, Joey, and Bruce keep trying to convince me that I'm never going to get caught up. Eric and Sara just shakes their heads at me every evening as their heading out the door. One of the nurses, Dottie, asked my why I was at work every damn Saturday when I only have to work one Saturday per month. Yes, I realize that I have a problem. I truly could be on the path to becoming a work-a-holic. Luckily the new Program Director announced that she will be leaving the building at 2:30pm every day and that all counselors are to be out of the building by that time also. So worst case scenario I can still be working 5 hours of overtime per week (with no pay) but that's better than working 10 or more, right? :)

Truly, I need to get my head on straight in this area or I'm going to screw myself in others. Since I've been working all of this overtime, I've gained 4lbs back that I had lost. Not good! I haven't had the time nor energy to work out and I never got back with that guy about taking guitar lessons. And I'm sort of losing touch with my friends because I hadn't checked my email all week until today! :) I need to refocus. Breathe in....breathe out...breathe in...breathe out...turn in a circle...you are the center of the universe...you are the center.

I did, however, get suckered into going up to the center that just opened in Beckley Tuesday of this next week to help with intakes. I don't remember exactly how it happened. Tanya (the new P.D.) was saying something about one of our counselors not driving up to Beckley to help with new admissions after next week...she asked if my parents still lived in that area and I said that they did...the next thing I know I said that I would go up on Tuesday to check it out to see if I liked it. She's hoping that I do like it so that I can work there for her on Tuesdays and Thursdays for the next month or so. We have alot of people who live closer to Beckley and who want to transfer...but we can only send as many transfers as they have counselors to do the paperwork. If we lend them counselors then the transfers happen faster and our caseloads go down faster. (Hypothetically. In reality, our intake numbers seem to have increased.)

I realize that I'm tired and that last little paragraph may not have made much sense. But I understand it so it's okay.

I'll leave you with some random thoughts:

I ate too much pizza this evening and my belly is bloated like I have a shit weasel or something growing in there!!! I watched Super Troopers and laughed and giggled. My boyfriend plays alot of computer games on my computer. I think I might be developing allergies 'cause I have a runny nose. At the times when we think we have things mostly figured out in life, something unexpected and confusing will come along to fuck up our peace of mind. My Christmas tree is still up. Sometimes I think about my friends and my family and I love them so much that it hurts right in the center of my chest. How often are we actually aware of experiencing and feeling love for someone? Have you ever stopped and watched yourself feel that way and really enjoyed it? Been awed by the beauty of human emotion? (You should try it sometime. It's kinda fun.) The day before yesterday the sky was a perfectly beautiful shade of blue. I took a moment and walked out on the back steps at work (since my office is right next to the back door) and savored the color of the sky, the green of the trees, and the bright, bursting yellow flowers on a bush just up the hillside. A strong March breeze was blowing my hair away from my face and I could hear the windchimes from the house just up the hill jangling in the wind. I turned my face up to the sun for a moment and closed my eyes and felt happy. I like the wind.

So here I am...drunk again! This is becoming an uncomfortable trend. :)

I just watched American Beauty again. And I cried like a baby at the end when Kevin Spacey's character when dies. So much...so much beauty in the world. And sometimes it truly does hurt to see it all. And sometimes we look forever and can never see it.

Today at work I was talking to a co-worker about the war. I told her that is was no use to worry about the future as we can't change it. We just have to take it as it comes and live life as we have it and love every moment that we have. If I were to die tomorrow...well...I've had a good run. I had a wonderful childhood...wonderful parents and siblings. I've had good friends that would do anything for me. I've been a good friend. I've been a good sister, a good daughter, a good granddaughter, a good employee, a good student, a good girlfriend, a good lover. :) I could die knowing that my life has not been a waste that and that I've had a good time and learned alot during my time.

Sometimes it does hurt when you ponder how much beauty there is in the world. And how much sorrow. And how much they're mingled together.

Maybe it's just the pinot grigio talking. :) Goodnight.

I have a picture of a woman exposing her boobies set as my background. And I have a hangover. The world was spinning when I opened my eyes at 9:30 this morning. So I decided to lay right where I was until 10am. Then the overwhelming desire to urinate won and I was forced to stumble to the bathroom.

I don't think that I put this boobie picture on my desktop, but I'm not sure. I don't remember much after Ken and Ben and I started prank calling people. I don't remember going downstairs last night. I don't remember taking my clothes off, which I must have because I woke up wearing a nightshirt thingie. I don't remember if Ben and I had sex. I just switched birth control pills and it's 7 days until they're effective so we better have used a condom. If I get pregnant over this shit I'm going to be pissed as hell. Anyway, I'm pretty sure we would have used one...maybe. Fuck. :(

Things I do remember....All three of us crawled in that little closet in my living room and Ben and Ken made the stuffed animals in there do sexual things to each other. I lost interest after a few minutes and came out and tried to read The Preacher for a bit, but I had trouble focusing on the words...and figuring out which comic block/bubble I was supposed to read next. Who would think that alcohol makes it hard to concentrate? I remember that we ate alot of potato chips and dip. I remember talking to Shawn and he was also drunk. Drinking alone last night...poor, poor bastard. I remember talking to Chris and telling him that Top Gun was a fucking stupid movie...which it sort of is and sort of isn't at the same time. Ben and Ken called Mary and possibly woke her up at 1:30am. We called Pat but he wasn't home. He called us back at 4am and called us a bunch of pussies on the answering machine because we'd all already passed out.

Well I'm pretty munchie right now...and very dehydrated. Ben and Ken are calling for us to go to Tudor's Biscuit World. Nothing like eating greasy ass breakfast foods when you're feeling a little woozie. :)

All this fun from 3 and 1/2 Miami Ice Teas.

Yes...I realize that I spelled the word "boobies" as "bobbies" when I posted last. I didn't mean to do it...and that's why it's funny...and that's why I'm NOT changing it. :)

Let's see...what's new? Well I'm carrying a case load of 66 patients at work, about 30 of which I see weekly. The rest I'm required to see either bi-weekly or monthly. Stressful. They've also decided to update our treatment plans so I have to learn a whole new tx plan system. The excitement never ends. Today is the 4th Saturday in a row that I've worked. I had to work last Saturday, however today and the other Saturdays I was supposed to be at home snoozing. I, however, feel this strange need to get my patient's paperwork turned in on time so that they can properly be taken care of. I've GOT to stop caring so much. I'm exhausted.

I was thinking yesterday about the impact of names of a person's personality. I work with a girl named Sara Buzzard. When I first came to the clinic and walked down the hall past her door and read that name, I instantly imagined her with dark hair and being a sort of brooding person that only wears black and such. It turns out that my guess wasn't very far from the truth. Honestly, Sara Buzzard reminds me very much of Wednesday Adams. She has very dark plainly styled hair, bright blue eyes, very pale skin, she's a tad on the fleshy side, and wears black often. She doesn't show much emotion when she speaks to people. When emotion is shown it's either annoyance or sarcasm. And so I wonder, is her behavior related to her last name and her perception of and association of that name with the idea of a vulture? Possible. Hmmm...an idea for future research.

I walked into the chart room several weeks ago and heard a muffled little girl's voice saying "Die, die, die!" over and over again. I looked around and found Sara sitting in the back of the room filing paperwork. I stopped, sort of spooked, and asked her in a hushed voice, "Did you hear that?" She stopped filing to listen and the voice stopped. She gave me an odd look and said that she didn't hear anything and then went back to filing. A second later the voice started chanting "Die, die, die" again. I looked at her to make sure that she wasn't making the noise and she was not moving her mouth...and it seemed to be coming from the next row of charts. I looked down the aisle but nothing was there. At this point I was a little freaked out. Then Kevin walked in the room and I grabbed his arm and said, "Can you hear that?" He laughed and then said, "What?" with a knowing smirk on his face and just got a chart and left. At this point Sara started laughing and the little girl's voice stopped chanting. She confessed that she's able to throw her voice, but she can only say the word "joy" over and over again. The only problem is that it sounds like the word "die" when she says it. She scared the shit out of me. I thought I was losing my bloody mind. :)

Hmmm...saw The Ring last week. I felt very compelled to copy the DVD and send the copy to some random person in the mail. :) I will agree with the majority that it was pretty good for a scary flick. It creeped me out, anyway. That night I saw the little girl, Samara, in my dream. And then I sort of woke up...the dream and reality sort of faded together and I thought I saw her standing in my bedroom doorway. Fucking creepy as hell. I closed my eyes and started praying and then opened them. Of course, the image had faded, but it scared the shit out of me. I hate my fucked up brain sometimes.




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Wet Boobie Syndrome

I fell into oblivion at 6pm....alas, I did not reach my dream of seeing little blue men beheading tangarine colored bunnies.

Ben didn't have his door key so I awoke, very bewildered, to the sound of the doorbell repeatedly dinging. I ran up the stairs, threw open the door, and just stared dumbly as Ben came in and sat down his backpack and jacket. I then followed him upstairs thinking that a nice glass of water and some food would be a good idea.

Being as sleepy as I am...and being who I am...my coordination was, needless to say, not at it's peak. The first drink I attempted to take from the glass of water found it's way down my shirt rather than into my parched mouth. There was a sudden inhalation of air as the cold water washed down over my bossom.

So I'm suffering from wet boobie syndrome for which no one has found one tried and true cure. I'm tired, and lonely, and so confused. Please help me...please. I'm going to cuddle in front of my heater until my bobbies dry and then I'm going to bed.

Zombie

I've been awake for 31 hours and 20 minutes.

In this zombie-like state that I'm in, (with my tanks and my bombs and my bombs and my guns) I somehow managed to actually get some work done today. I also somehow managed to survive a pt. yelling at me because his/her last two urine screens came back positive for benzodiazepines...and somehow it was MY fault. Actually the pt. was pissed because he/she will have to attend the clinic more frequently. You break the rules once and you get a warning. Twice and I take your goodies away. I had to take goodies away today and the pt. was not happy. :)

I think this sleep deprivation clouded brain thing I've got going on allowed all that stress from the screaming pt. to just bounce right off of me. Normally I'm like a freaking sponge when it comes to situations like that...I instantly internalize all of that icky stress and anxiety. Today I've been just too fucking tired to care.

Somewhere in the back of my head a little voice was saying in response to this pt's bitching, "You better shut the fuck up or I'm going to fuck-start your head!" If only Benicio Del Toro or Ryan Phillippe had been there to save me.

Jesus Christo, I feel fucked up. I'm tempted to stay awake until I start hallucinating...I'd like to see little blue men biting the heads off of fluffy tangarine colored bunnies. That would be cool.

Blood Work

When a patient is admitted to our clinic they have a physical exam and blood work done. The blood work comes back about 3 weeks later and the counselors are required to discuss the results with them and, if necessary, refer them to a doctor. More often than not, the clinic Medical Director will scribble a little note on the side of the results detailing the condition or dangers indicated by the numbers shown. My co-worker Eric got some blood work back on a patient his second week working as a counselor. The pt's labs showed a possibility of risk for diabetes and the Medical Director had made a note to that effect on the side of the page. Eric, however, was having difficulty reading the doctor's handwriting at that time. He ended up telling the patient that he had "disasters" in his blood stream. The patient then promptly freaked out and shrieked in horror , "Oh my god! I have Hepatitis C, don't I? Don't I?"

After the pt. left, Eric realized his error and made a note to tell the pt. the correct results on his/her next visit. A few days later Eric tells a pt. that he/she needs to get checked for diabetes because his/her bloodwork shows indication of diabetes. The pt. freaked out yet again, stating the he/she is perfectly healthy. And then Eric realized that he told the wrong pt. that they had diabetes.

I think he finally got the right person to the doctor. For treatment of diabetes...not disasters. And if a long haired hippy looking dude ever tells you that you have disasters in your bloodstream, make sure you give him a swift kick in the jimmy!

A Wee Hour Blog

My friends made it across the country safely, surprisingly enough, and we unpacked the Uhal on Sunday afternoon. Since then we've just been chilling at Old Lady Berry's house. (Old Lady B kicks ass!!!) Ben and I left Columbus at 10:00pm and got home at 1:15am. We would have been home earlier, but we got stuck in traffic for an hour due to a nasty little wreck on Route 35.

Not that I minded the delay really. In spite of the fact that I have to start getting ready for work at 3:00am. :) It gave me a chance to appreciate that patch of night sky hanging over that stretch of West Virginia farmland. I had forgotten just how full of stars the sky actually is. (Or was, considering the fact that the stars producing those bits of light are zillions of miles away and the light of a star that burned out long ago just may be making it to us.) Normally the city drowns the stars out, but there was no city, no streetlights, and no houses on that strip of road. Just the line of cars ahead of us and the darkenss and the sky. I like moments like that. Moments that force you to be still...to look around you and think.

It also gave Ben and I a chance to talk about a little of everything. We talked about the past and the future. About our families and friends and our hopes and fears. We agreed that we had both hurt each other deeply in the past. But we also agreed that, even though we did not wish to cause the other pain, we do not regret the past. The past taught us painful lessons, gave us deeper understandings of love and life, and shaped us into the people that we have become. I have always believed that in order to gain understanding and knowledge, we must sacrifice something of ourselves. The process of learning and growth is a change. With change there is always a price...always a sacrifice. I feel that what we have learned and gained has been well worth the pain and sacrifice.

We are each in the process of healing ourselves now, and it will take time to recover from our pain. That actually is one of my New Year's resolutions...to heal and make peace with who I was and who I now am. I'm not sure how long it will take (let alone if it can even be done within a year's time) and I'm not sure where it will lead me, but I'm moving forward.

I'm learning to love myself again. If I find something inside of me that I don't like, I try to change it and then keep moving forward. That's all you can do really. Ben and I were talking about how we really only have two choices when we encounter a difficulty in life. We can either sit down, simply exist, and let that problem overwhelm us or we can keep pushing, keep trying, and keep moving forward until we overcome. It's my opinion that I have enough of my Grandmother's stubbornness to allow me to keep pushing forward. Piss-ant or not, I'm a survivor. I ain't gonna give up! I ain't gonna stop! I'm gonna work harder! :)

Sorry about that. I swear that I will never (intentionally) quote Destiny's Children lyrics on this blog ever again.

I had a wonderful time these past two days. Being with my friends was very theraputic and comforting and I find myself feeling happy and peaceful...at least for the moment. :) I also had fun with Barb (a.k.a. Old Lady B) this weekend. Ya know, it's really odd, but I get along with her better than I do women my own age. I like the fact that she doesn't just welcome me as one of her son's friends, but also as her friend. She's an intelligent, classy woman woman with a good sense of humor and a strong will. She's been through a lot of shit but came out standing, and I greatly respect her.

Hmmm...it's 2:57am and tiredness is just starting to creep in. And I have 11 hours until I can be home again. I'm fucked. :)

Let's see...random thoughts to close my blog: I'm happy that Chris has moved nearer. I'm sorry that Pat is still so far away. I have an ache inside that's lessening with time. I have no fucking clue what I'm going to wear to work today. I wish I had sick time because I'd stay home and sleep. I'm blessed to have such a wonderful family and such wonderful friends. My friends are actually a family to me. One day I believe that I will have an answer to my biggest question. One day the people that I love will find what they're looking for and they will have their answers too.

I don't think "one day" is today, but try to enjoy it anyway. :)

Today is March 1st and I realized that I've still never taken my Christmas tree down.

Some may think that this is pathetic. Perhaps it is. Some may think that I'm lazy. Perhaps I am. I prefer to think that I'm trying to "keep Christmas in my heart all throughout the year" like the reformed Ebenezer Scrooge.

Christmas is a time that has nothing but good memories for me. Cold winter nights spent at home warm and with my family. My mom would bake alot of cookies and other goodies and we'd all sit in the living room together munching and watching TV or watching the Christmas tree lights and talking. And we'd talk about the things we wanted to accomplish in our lives. And our parents would share memories of their childhood and adolesence. Good times. :)

But we all know the truth. I'm just a pathetic, lazy biatch that hasn't gotten around to taking her tree down. I wonder if I should leave it up and just change the ornaments according to the seasons? Nah. Too much work. :)

On to other exciting news...

My workplace is alive with gossip and rumors. I've been anticipating the day when I would hear a rumor about me. Eric, Patrick, Kevin and I have been trying to spread the rumor that I'm really a man who's just undergone cosmetic surgery and hormone therapy to become a woman. We were telling people that I'd be getting my vagina this June. Unfortunately, no one bought it.

Finally last week I heard my very first rumor about me. Cyndi (Matt's wife) told me that people are saying that my co-worker Eric and I are a little "too friendly" with each other. When I take my 15 minute break I'll go to his office and bullshit for a bit, and he also comes to mine on his 15 minutes break. Sometimes, however, I'll go downstairs and sit and talk with Kevin or Patrick. Hell, sometimes I talk to Cyndi or Andre or Lumpy or Joey. But for some strange reason one or more of my co-workers thinks that since I talk more frequently to Eric, well, I must be sleeping with him. Perfectly logical, right?

I have never in my life worked with "professionals" who act so juvenile. Some days I feel like I'm back in high school again. :) I have my suspicions about who most likely started this rumor/gossip. Once I'm sure who it is I'm going to give him/her/them a little talking to.

And other fun stuff....

My friends Chris, Shawn, and Pat are on their way across this great nation in a Uhal. Today is day three of their travels and I'm guessing that they're probably somewhere in Kansas or Missouri by now. I hope that they haven't run any more people over or killed any more hookers. They're not exactly in the ideal getaway car and they're definately not inconspicuous. :) Safe jorney, boys.

Tofu hot dogs look like normal hot dogs and taste like normal hot dogs, but they have a texture all their own. Weird, man. And then there's the bean-like after taste. Again, weird.

I'm hoping to get someone from another team to switch with me so that I can work next Saturday and end up having this Monday off. That way I'll be able to spend more time with my friends in Colombus this weekend. Yay!

I finally got my evaluation back at work. I'm officially a full time employee now and I get insurance! The forms are upstairs awaiting my completion. Note to self: Complete insurance forms tomorrow evening or your head will explode.

Fruit is some of the most wonderful stuff on Earth. Especially grapes. White seedless grapes are the bomb! And Special K Red Berries is the food of the gods!

Anyway, I'm really enjoying this new Weight Watchers point counting diet that Ben and I have adopted. I get to eat the stuff that I love like sandwiches, veggies, cereal, and fruit. :) Yum!

My back hurts. Ben and I played raquetball this evening and I think I must've twisted funny or something. I learned that I play raquetball better when in a bad mood. I tend to hit the ball harder that way.

Ben got me a massage book for Christmas and I've learned how to do the back leg massage, a few back massage techniques, and a few arm and hand massage techniques. If only I could massage my own back right now. :(

I'm going to bed. Goodnight and I love you all!

One of my former patients called me yesterday just to say hi. He had transfered to a clinic in another city that is closer to his home. He told me that he was doing well now...he makes more money than I do at his new job and has better benefits! :) And he hasn't used any drugs since he entered treatment. When he first came to the clinic he reported suicidal ideations, however now he says that he's so excited about his life that he would never dream of throwing it away. :)

I was so happy to talk to him and to hear that the program is actually working for him. He told me that he likes his new clinic okay, but he misses me. He told me that his new counselor just doesn't seem to be willing to take the time to talk to him like I would and that he wished that I was still his counselor. Hearing him say that was very rewarding. He made my day! :)

So I guess I'm doing something right some of the time at least. :)

New Year's Resolution(s) Progress Report

Ben and I did the Adkins diet for a bit, but we decided that we couldn't take one more day of eating greasy meats!!!! (Ben actually was the one to crumble this time around.) I lost 7lbs on it. (Not a bad start, I suppose.) But it's not worth the amount of disgust that eating an all meat diet provokes.

So, now Ben and I are doing the Weight Watchers thing. (Basically, keeping our calorie intake pretty low.) And we've started exercising again. We're playing (or attempting to play) raquetball 3 times per week. After I do the raquetball thing for about 30 minutes, I've been doing cardiovascular stuff for an additional 30 minutes and then doing 3 sets of light weight on my biceps and my quads to tone. So far, I'm still at the same weight as when I stopped Mr. Adkin's diet. I plan on upping my exercise regiment to 5 days a week. I'll be sure to brag on any progress that I make in lessening the Earth's gravitational pull upon my being.

One resolution underway, three more to go.

Today I decided to call around and price guitar playing lessons. The cheapest I found was $15 per lesson for 4 lessons a month. The most expensive was $17.50 per lesson, however the $17.50 guy seemed really cool. He talked to me for a few minutes and I found myself already liking him. He put me at ease and it's very important that a teacher be able to do that. Especially when you're a stubborn ass bitch who embarrasses fairly easy and you're putting yourself in a vulnerable position by trying to learn something new and important to you. I know I will fail on occasion and I need to be comfortable failing in front of whom ever is teaching me. (Pride is a funny thing.) He said that he wouldn't be able to take a new student for a couple of weeks. I'll have to think it over a bit.

Anyway, I suppose Resolution 2 could be underway in the near future. As for Resolution 3 & 4...well...those are going to take some time...that's all I know right now.

Tune in for more exciting updates in the life of Chris G.

"You don't see what I see every day as Chris G."

Happy Valentine's Day!

I went to a wedding today. A guy from work and a gal that I used to work with tied the knot today. It was a lovely, small ceremony and afterwards we went to dinner at the Marriott. The wedding was so emotional: Andre started crying as he saw her walking down the aisle...Stefanie started crying as she was saying her vows...everyone cried when the bride's 10 year old daughter, Alexa, gave her away (except for me, callous and bitter wench that I am). Also at the reception the groom read a poem and declaration of love that he had composed for the bride and they both were crying through that. :)

I'm happy for them because they seem so in love and so happy together. Love and happiness are very fragile things. I hope that they learn how to make it last throughout their lifetimes.

Here's to the newly wed Andre and Stefanie Nazario!

A dream

In my dream, my friends Stephanie and Nikki came to visit me at my parent's home in Eccles. Nikki had picked Stephanie up in her father's big, red Ford 250. It's a nice truck really...it even has one of those truck toppers on it so that you can put groceries and things back there without fear of them being stolen. Anyway, they arrived and we all had dinner and sat around and talked. My entire immediate family was there also. After dinner Stephanie asked to borrow Nikki's truck so that she could go and check on her husband and her kids and then come right back. This is impractical because Steph and her husband live 30 minutes away from my parent's home. She really should have just called them to check on them. However, we didn't think it odd in the dream and she took the keys and was gone for a while and then returned.

Steph came back in and pulled Nikki aside and said, "I need to talk to you. Come outside with me." They went outside and a few minutes later Nikki came back in, her skin pale, eyes wide, mouth gaping, and her breathing terse. I immediately grew concerned and asked her what was wrong. Steph came in the house at that moment and said that we should go back to my bedroom to talk. So we all filed down the hall to my old bedroom.

Once back there Nikki burst out, "She has a dead man in the back of the truck! She cut off his hand! Oh my god, Christina! Oh god! Oh god!" And then she started sobbing and sat down on the bed with her hands covering her face. I look at Nikki in disbelief and then look up at Steph who calmly reached into her purse and pulled out something wrapped in a small white towel. There was fresh blood on one end of the towel. She unwrapped the bundle and there was a man's left hand. Through my shock and horror I noticed that the hand wore a wedding band...a wedding band that matched Stephanie's. She had killed her husband, Derek.

My legs gave out and I sank down to the floor. I was nauseous and dizzy and I felt that I couldn't breathe. Nikki still sat sobbing and Stephanie stood looking down at us, that dead hand held in hers, and she was disturbingly calm. I asked her why and she said that she just couldn't take it anymore. She then announced that we had to bury him. Nikki and I didn't question this, but immediately started trying to think of places where we could dispose of the remains. Nikki kept saying, "I've got to go home tonight. Oh god, that's my dad's truck! He's gonna kill me! We've got to get rid of it!" She was still crying. I suggested one area on Bolt Mountain and we decided to go and check it out and look for the perfect spot to hide the remains of the dead husband. (Who was, by the way, a former boyfriend of mine. But that's another story.)

We decided to drive my car down to Bolt Mountain. We didn't want to get pulled over with a dead body in the back, after all. So we went and found a good location away from the road and very secluded and then we began our drive back to Eccles. On the way back the shock started to wear off and I realized that I didn't have to help her do this. I realized that I should, in fact, call the police. Then the internal struggle began. Should I help one of my dear friends whom I've known since I was eight years old? Or should I do the right thing and call the police? Was I willing to become a criminal and endanger my freedom for this girl? I considered Derek. He was not an easy person to be with, by any means. He was very controlling and obsessive about certain things...one of those being Stephanie's weight. He constantly told her she looked fat so that she would exercise and diet like mad and stay in shape. As a result, she did stay in shape but she had a twisted self-image. He also did not tell her that he had genital herpes before having sex with her...so he gave them to her. Nice, eh? (I'm so glad our relationship never got that far! Thank God for my 17 year-old inexperience and desire to remain a virgin until marriage!) However, these were not reasons to kill a man. Divorce him, perhaps, but not to take his life. I came to my sense and decided I could not help her and I had to convince Nikki of the same.

We returned to my house and I told Steph to sit and talk to my family while Nikki and I gathered up shovels and things that we would need for our task. She agreed. Once Nik and I were outside I told her that we were not going to help Steph and that we needed to call the police. She was still in shock, eyes still wide and looking dazed, but she pulled out her cell phone and dialed the number. I took the phone from her and said that I wanted to report a murder. The murderer and the murdered were at my home and help needed to arrive as quickly as possible.

We went back inside and whispered to Steph that we needed to visit with my family awhile so that they wouldn't think anything was up. She went along with it. While she was talking to my mother in the kitchen, I informed my dad and brother of the situation and let them know that we needed to keep her engaged in conversation and distracted until the police arrived.

They arrived about 30 minutes later and handcuffed her. She looked at me with very sad eyes and said, "I just couldn't take it anymore." I nodded and smiled and waved goodbye as tears welled up in my eyes. And then she was out the door and being led toward the police cruiser. I broke down crying thinking of all of the wonderful times we had shared as children. Another cop came in and said that no one else was allowed to leave until we had all been questioned. There were several officers surrounding Nikki's dad's truck, taking photographs and making notes. They sat me down to be questioned, I began my story, and then I woke up.

Murder, murder, murder. At least this time I made the right choice. I hope this dream isn't at all prophetic. I'm a little worried honestly. You see, after I dated Derek (Steph's husband) for two weeks, I knew that he wasn't for me. To let him down easier I decided to fix him up with Stephanie. On the day they were introduced, they hit it off wonderfully and they were holding hands by the evening. That evening as we were eating dinner, I glanced at their intertwined hands on the table and remembered a dream that I had had of that particular vision. The dream consisted only of that image and one thought...these two people will get married. I blurted out, "You two are going to get married." This was their first time meeting...it wasn't even a date really...so they both blushed and smiled at the suggestion and said I was crazy. Six months later I attended their wedding. Was it my suggestion that caused them to want to marry? Or was my dream truly prophetic? I think the latter.

Now with this new dream, I hope it's just all simply wild imagination. And it actually felt like that's what it was. It was too long and detailed to be prophetic. All of the dreams that I've had that have come to pass have only been glimpses...very short and not very detailed. Usually when I have them I wake up thinking, "What the hell was that? That didn't make any sense!" At any rate, I might call Steph and advise her not to kill Derek if she's unhappy. That's what friends are for, I suppose. To keep each other from murdering their significant others. :)

It's a Sad, Sad World

You know, it's pretty sad when I find myself reading my own blog for entertainment. Yup.

You know what else is sad? I turned on the TV yesterday (and this morning) and saw an infomercial for a new piece of exercise equipment that is truly only a 4 inch wide, 3 feet long piece of stretchy material. This fabulously buff woman was in a room of other fabulously buff women walking in place with this thing wrapped behind their backs, an end of it in each hand with arms extending and and contracting. The main fabulous woman was talking about how in just a few weeks YOU TOO CAN LOOK AS GOOD AS I DO, IF ONLY YOU PURCHASE THIS PRODUCT!!!!! What a crock of shite! :) Go to the goddamn gym people! Don't send this silly wench $35.95 for a strip of friggin' material!!!!

You know what else is sad? Me. Cause I miss my friends. :(

In the Pope's Rubber Robe

Since my sister's divorce in 1998, she's gone through a sort of second adolescence. She has been trying out new identities and by this process attempting to make the transformation from Rose, devoted and doting wife, to Rose, single and thirty-something single gal.

Over the past couple of years, she's startled me more than a few times during this process. First she actually started drinking and getting trashed with her friends, which blew my mind because she had been a very devout Protestant Christian for...well...ever since I've known her. The next step was piercing her ears several times. Then she got a tatoo on her ass of a little heart with an american flag in it. Then she asked me to take nude and sexy photographs of her to send to her love interest at the time who was in the military and stationed somewhere near Afghanistan. Next came the belly piercing. But that was the extend of her odd behavior...until today. :)

She just called and informed me that she was converting to Catholicism. She's been attending a Catholic church in Baltimore and says that she feels at peace after she attends a service and she really wants to become part of it all. Don't get me wrong. I fully support her decision and am open to all religions...but, truth be told, I'm still in shock! I suppose expected her to go a little wild after her divorce...but I never expected her to convert to another religion! wow.

Well, here's to God, the Pope, and my sister...may they find what they're looking for in each other. :)

"And if I lose my Cracker Jacks at the tidal wave
I got a place in the Pope's rubber robe
Muhammad my friend
It's time to tell the world
We both know it was a girl
Back in Bethlehem"

~ Tori Amos from Muhammad My Friend

I have been possessed by the spirit of Nancy Reagan. "Just Say No!" Wait a minute...she's not dead. Hmmm...

Visualize This

A man told me today that he can't piss standing up due to his back pain. (He has a slipped disc or something in his back...not a dick slipped in his back as Pat thought I said.) He went on to say that due to the constant pain he was unable to fully empty his blatter because he would clinch against the pain and that would cause that sphincter to close. But now that he's come to the clinic, he told me that he can empty his bladder. He was excited about it and I'm happy for him. I try not to take my youth and current good health for granted...people like this guy put it all into perspective for me.

Anyway sharing all of this with me was necessary, I suppose, so that I could understand the nature of his illness and pain. I'm flattered that he felt comfortable enough with me to talk about such a possibly embarrassing issue. However, he really didn't need to go into such detail as to describe how he must "push" when he's trying to go to the bathroom. He even sat in the patient chair and demonstrated how he must sit on the toilet for anything to "move" for him. This was entirely unnecessary and now I have the mental image of this man sitting on the toilet burned permanently in my memory. Lovely.

Blue Body Scrub Thingie

A couple of days ago I found, hidden under the shower curtain in a corner of my bathroom floor, a medium sized light blue body scrubbie thingie. I know it's not mine or Ben's, so it must belong to one of my guests from the holiday. So I say to the owner of this item, if you want the scrubbie thingie back, I will keep it in a very safe place for you until I see you again and can return it. If, however, you do not have any attachment to the light blue scrubbie thing, please let me know and I will dispose of it in an environmentally sound manner.

I'm tired. My job just seems to be getting more stressful with each passing day. My case load is now 63 patients. And there's just so fucking much to keep track of...it's wearing me thin. :) And the patients themselves, dear Jupiter! But now I'm going to tell you a story:

Today, I received an anonymous phone call from someone reporting that they had seen my patient, high as a frigging kite, playing in traffic. The caller was a friend, she said. She was an older woman who was genuinely concerned about my patient's health. I'm guessing it was a mother or an aunt. She reported that my pt. had taken her methadone that day plus some benzodiazepines, barbituates, and some other substance that the pt. claimed would cause all of this stuff not to show up in her urine drug screens.

Benzos and barbs are classifiied as central nervous system depressants. They are typically used to sedate a person to treat anxiety, etc. Methadone, when taken with certain other drugs, will enhance the effects of those other drugs. Benzos and barbs are extremely dangerous to take with methadone. Mixing a high enough dosage of the two will cause a patient's heart and breathing to slow to a dangerous level and will either put them in a coma or kill them. A patient at our clinic just lost his girlfriend two weeks ago because she decided to see what would happen if she took his methadone and a few benzos. Basically, my patient is running a high risk of killing herself if she doesn't change her behavior soon.

Talk about a stressful situation. She wants to get off drugs very much...she basically has to or she loses her husband and her children. I don't blame the guy for leaving. I would do the same if I were in his situation, I'm sure. But I want her to succeed so that she can save her marriage and be a mother to her children! The problem is that she just can't break out of this old pattern of behavior. She's my age...I could be her if I had made different choices. It's hurting me that I can't help her...she simply won't let me. I've spoken with her once about the dangers of mixing other medications with methadone. I'm going to talk to her again tomorrow. I certainly hopes she heeds my warnings. I really don't want to read her obituary any time soon.

Shawn and Chris talked about drug use and substance abuse in their blogs this week. I smoked a fair amount of "wacky weed" back in the day, I've hit acid before, and I've drunk myself to the point of oblivion and extremely unattractive stupidity. But I've never once taken any pills, snorted anything, or shot anything up. I was and am too fucking afraid of addiction and of what I would become. Unlike my boys, I don't fear letting out the deep dark things hidden in me. They're really not that deep or dark. :) I've always had only a sort of constant underlying melancholy...not a raging demon waiting to leap out and devour whomever it may. What I fear, I think, is losing control of who I am...letting something else take control of my life. I realize now that my fear is well founded...and just may have saved my silly ass from a very different lifestyle.

My experiences working with drug addicts have taught me a few other things:

The first being not to pass judgement on anyone. (Yes, this is something we all try to do and say we do but our society is designed in such a way that we are constantly comparing things to determine what is "right" and what is "wrong, what is "good" or "bad". We learn and understand our world through judging and comparison. We understand ourselves and our roles in society by comparing ourselves with others. So we all judge daily.) The events that lead many of my patients to drug addiction could just as easily have happened in my life. I just got lucky and was gifted with wonderful parents who helped me to make the right choices and helped me to develop a strong will.

The second thing I've learned is not to trust anyone when it comes to taking drugs. I've had people tell me of how their best friends, even their family members have given them drugs laced with something else and didn't tell them until it was too late. You can really never know if friend or even the dealer didn't lace that joint that they're passing you with cocaine or angel dust.

The third and greatest lesson I've learned is that substance abuse of every kind can destroy your life and the lives of those you love the most. I've met people who's mothers, fathers, siblings, aunts, uncles, and cousins won't talk to them because of their past actions under the influence of drugs. I've met people who've lost all family, their husbands/wives, boyfriends/girlfriends, children, friends, jobs, vehicles, homes, and all their possessions due to substance abuse. A few of them have only the clothes on their backs and their lives. They somehow gather up the $12.50 it takes to dose daily at the clinic. And that's their world.

I experiemented with those few things when I was younger, and as little as 6 months ago I was probably even open to experimenting a bit more. But not now. Not after all of the shit I've seen and the broken lives that I'm faced with daily.

My message, in short, is please don't do drugs. There are dangerous substances out there that can take control of you without you even realizing it. Just don't go there. :) That way you won't have to worry about doing crazy shit like screaming disturbing things out at downtown bars or asking pretty girls to shoot you with your own gun. :)

Man seeks to escape himself in myth, and does so by any means at his disposal. Drugs, alcohol, or lies. Unable to withdraw into himself, he disguises himself. Lies and inaccuracy give him a few moments of comfort. ~ Jean Cocteau

Change

Patterns. Repetition. Habit.

We wake up every morning, We shower, and we go to work. We work and we come home and eat. We do dishes or laundry. We watch TV or screw around online and then go to bed and do it all again. Over and over and over.

There are men and women who go to jobs they hate every day. And they come home to children and spouses who are strangers because they don't have time to spend with them because of these time consuming jobs that they hate. But they don't change it because it's the pattern that they have fallen into. There are women and men who go to sleep every night lonely because they also have fallen into the pattern of being alone. There are men who are no longer in love with their wives and women who are no longer in love with their husbands but they stay because they have so much time and effort invested. And because that is the pattern that they have fallen into.

There comes a time in all of our lives when we are ready for change...when we need to break the pattern. But we realize that change is difficult and painful to bring about in ourselves and our lives, especially when there are others involved.

We must die to one life before we can enter another. ~ Anatole France

Ice

A thin later of ice has formed over the river near my apartment. The snow that fell today and earlier this week has formed a pristine, white blanket over the ice. There are a few areas where the ice does not meet in the middle and the freezing waters reflect the iron grey of the sky. It's so beautiful and still and silent. I'd never seen a river freeze until now. And they say the cold is just beginning. :)

The ice is thin...come on dive in...underneath my lucid skin...the cold is lost...Forgotten. ~ Sarah McLachlan

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we
leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we
can enter another.

Anatole France